


Chocolate Cake and Fluorescent Lights

by Teharissa



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Cute, Cutesy, First Kiss, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Not Relevant to story tho, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mentioned Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21715153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teharissa/pseuds/Teharissa
Summary: What he was in the mood for was to be determined. The lights of the kitchen were turned on, bright and fluorescent, and a little too much for one am in the morning. Various ingredients were laid out on the island countertop, all in assorted order. Eren was cracking an egg with excruciating slowness, while Armin silently mouthed along to some pop song, swinging his head back and forth in exaggeration with the lyrics.If Eren’s parents woke up, they were so fucking screwed.It's one in the morning, and they're making a cake. Without either of their parents knowing. They're adorable.
Relationships: Armin Arlert & Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager
Comments: 9
Kudos: 138





	Chocolate Cake and Fluorescent Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Shingeki No Kyojin.

Perhaps it was the steady hum of the outdoors--the constant stream of sound that came from rustling trees and scurrying critters--but the night seemed too alive. Far too alive to simply close your eyes and ignore in a vain attempt to fall asleep and let your consciousness drift.

Besides. Sleep meant waking up again, and Eren wasn’t in the mood for school. Interacting with people he hated, trying and failing to care about what teachers demanded of him, waking up early to begin with, all of it was something that Eren refused to let himself move further towards.

What he was in the mood for was to be determined. The lights of the kitchen were turned on, bright and fluorescent, and a little too much for one am in the morning. Various ingredients were laid out on the island countertop, all in assorted order. Eren was cracking an egg with excruciating slowness, while Armin silently mouthed along to some pop song, swinging his head back and forth in exaggeration with the lyrics.

If Eren’s parents woke up, they were so fucking screwed.

Armin wasn’t even supposed to _be_ here, but he couldn’t sleep either and Eren was always willing to spend time with his best friend. Eren had ended up letting him in through the window--because as much as the backdoor was a viable option, it made both of them feel cooler if they used less than productive means. So Armin was here now, instead of the house three blocks down where he was supposed to be.

So yes, maybe it was a school night, maybe Eren was failing math and english and should be doing homework or, you know, sleeping. Yes, maybe Armin had no business being here in the middle of the night, and his (annoying, homophobic) parents would kill him if they had known that he’d snuck out. And maybe they were making a three layer frosted cake in the middle of the night.

Armin took a moment in his silent rendition of popular music, humming to himself in thought. His words were directed at Eren, who was in the middle of dumping the dry mix into the recently finalized wets.

“How are we going to bake them? Won’t your parents hear the oven go off?” Armin asked, curiously. He was sitting on the counter next to the mixer, and when he looked down at Eren, soft smile on his face, he looked purely angelic. It wouldn’t be wrong to say Eren’s heart missed a beat at that look being offered to him.

“Yeah,” Eren said, “But we’ll think of something.”

The mixture looked good--nice and creamy, dark brown, just generally delicious. It was a mission success in Eren’s book. It was also a nice distraction from how large Armin’s eyes were, how they were that subtle crystal blue that seemed to shimmer under the light. Then again, Eren was his best friend--he could stand to look at him, despite his treacherous heart.

“I suppose we could watch the time carefully, or maybe set a silent alarm on one of our phones,” Armin said aloud, tapping his lip absently, “How long does it go in for?”

There was a moment where Eren crossed the room to another countertop, looking at the large recipe book set out before them. There was the sound of Armin jumping off the island, and yet he didn’t cross the kitchen to join Eren. 

“Twenty eight to thirty minutes,” Eren said, before suspicion dawned on him. He twisted on heel, pointing an accusing finger, “Armin, no! Don’t eat it yet!”

Armin looked over at him, with a finger still in his mouth, grinning slightly between the chocolate. The expression of a perfectly adorable, _guilty_ motherfucker. Eren tossed him a scandalized look, hand still poised in a point between them.

“It’s coming along good, if that’s what you want to know,” Armin said, before Eren could speak again. This elicited a slight squawk of indignation from Eren.

“That is not the issue!”

Armin laughed. Soft giggles at first, though the more intense they got, the more he had to muffle them with his sleeves. Eren felt himself stiffen--not that it wasn’t adorable, or even something that he didn’t love, but simply because he didn’t want to wake his parents. But even so, he couldn’t help a smile of his own crossing his face, large and impossible to leave.

He put his hand over Armin’s mouth, ignoring the way that Armin’s lips felt against his skin--soft, slightly chapped, but perfectly kissable.

“Shh!” Eren laughed slightly to himself, “We don’t want to get caught!”

Armin looked him deadass in the eye, pulling Eren’s hand away. The smirk on his face was only one of mischievous nature.

“We won’t get caught,” Armin whispered, “Mikasa’s dead to the world, and you’re parents are way too exhausted from dealing with you.”

Rude. Even if that smirk did make Armin look that much hotter.

“Ouch,” Eren gasped, scandalized, “And here I thought you were here to support my dumbass nature? I thought you were my friend.”

“It was all a ploy. To get you to trust me, and then, to betray you at your most vulnerable.”

It was getting increasingly hard not to laugh--this time Eren had to cover his own mouth. They were rather tired, and delirious from the exhaustion. Laughter was an all too common affliction. And Armin--once again giggling into his sleeve, shuddering with the force of his laughter--was absolutely adorable.

“S-shut up,” Eren said between gasps, “Or it’s your funeral.”

“Make me!”

“Fucking eat more chocolate cake, you piece of shit,” Eren said. Armin only doubled over again, grabbing onto Eren’s shirt to support himself. Eventually, their laughs subsided, and Eren finally managed to look at the dough that they were (supposed) to be trying to make.

Granted, the proximity to Armin was appreciated, but there was a reason they were even awake. So Eren relished in it for a couple more seconds, pretending he wasn’t gay as fuck for his best friend, before finally pulling Armin’s hands in his own. Perhaps a worse course of action, considering he could feel the cold softness that was his hands.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he was pretty sure Armin’s face was flushed.

“We have to finish,” Eren said, reluctantly. Armin nodded, though he kept his head ducked. Now Eren was certain that he wasn’t imagining the blush--it crept up the side of his face, and was increasing in color so obvious that Eren knew he couldn’t be imagining it. 

_Cute_.

“Y-yeah,” Armin shook himself, “Why’d, uh, did you want to finish the cake so badly though? It’s not really like you.”

“Because you’re birthday’s tomorrow--well,” Eren glanced at the clock, “Today, actually. I wanted to make it for you. Did you really forget?”

If it was possible, Armin’s blush only increased in intensity.

“Maybe.”

That was a yes. Eren refused to laugh again, and he felt his ribs ache from the effort of keeping it in. Well, granted, it was a pretty Armin-like move. To forget his own birthday--Eren wasn’t sure he knew a single other person who did that, even if they refused to celebrate it. And Armin, without fail, every year managed to forget.

Maybe it was the day itself that gave Eren some level of confidence. Maybe it was the delirium, the exhaustion, something. Maybe it was because Eren had always been an impulsive bastard. But, he tilted Armin’s head upwards, so that it faced him. And then, hoping he was reading the signs right, he leaned forward and captured Armin in a kiss.

There was a stifled yelp of surprise, though Armin was quick to react properly. Leaning into the kiss, he pressed just as insistently as Eren did. Armin tasted like chocolate, of the delicious mix of mouth and touch.

He broke apart for a moment, looking at Armin. Armin who’s cheeks were flush this time with bewilderment, and happiness. His gaze was turned towards Eren’s own, eyes wide and yet so bright. His mouth formed a small ‘oh’.”

“Why’d you do that?” he asked, hesitantly.

“You’re cute,” Eren said, shuddering slightly, “And I wanted to. Was it okay?”

Armin nodded, like he wasn’t really believing what just happened. Dazed.

“Could you--could you do it again?” Armin asked, quiet.

Eren didn’t have to be asked twice.

* * *

Mikasa woke early.

That in and of itself was odd. She usually slept until the latest possible moment, much the chagrin of Eren’s parents (she wasn’t ready, not yet, to call them her own), and to the surprise of most her classmates. Waking up early meant less sleep, and less sleep meant being awake more. The problem was obvious. Being awake sucked. Mikasa couldn’t find it in her to say it any other way.

She walked down the stairs, still graceful even in her tiredness, wearing only a bra and sleep shorts. And, the moment she reached the bottom step, she froze.

Because, the living room that was proudly displayed right at the bottom of the stairs, was currently hosting two boys who both should not be within it. Eren, who should have been in his room, lay on his back on the couch. His head was tilted to the side, drooling slightly onto the cushions. And tucked on top of him, held safely within one of his arms, was a certain Armin Arlert.

Armin Arlert who most certainly didn’t live here. Mikasa blinked for a moment, staring. They were comfortable, clearly, and--she checked the time--it was five thirty in the morning. Waking them would be cruel, and unnecessary.

Taking a picture of the apparent cuteness that was her two best friends, on the other hand, felt perfectly acceptable.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed fluff. Because Chapter 124 fucked me up.


End file.
